Born a Monster

Chapter 68: Born A Monster, Chapter 68 – Small Kerfuffle

Born A Monster

Chapter 68

Small Kerfuffle

After a brief and expensive shopping spree, Cantiope, Mentelome, and the domugs left to the southeast to scout the land, and possibly to actually prepare traps.

“Please be mindful of the innocents.” I asked.

Deek nodded. “Yuh. Traps no good, get sprung early.”

While that wasn’t EXACTLY my concern, I was happy for the overlap.

.....

“Well, all this travel and living off the land has been nice, but I’m well overdue for a bath.” Katherine said.

Ah, that sounded divine. Just a short check with Amendae...

“Got a letter from them. It’s... here it is.”

“I didn’t know Philecto even knew his letters.”

“Going to be late, is he? Does he say how late?”

I sighed. “I’m going to need all the spare change not on hold for him.”

“Oh? Do tell the details.”

“Philecto Amor and his companions are in jail for attempted murder.”

“Oh, just have them pay the fine.”

“One of them stabbed a noblewoman’s youngest daughter.”

“Got it. I’ll just fetch your spare coinage, then.”

So much for a bath. With luck, maybe we’d camp next to a river, and I could get a good soaking in.

I stopped by Katherine’s inn, and patiently didn’t disembowel the local busker, who broke into a rendition of “Kobold Under My Bed”. I was prepared to wait for an hour or two, but was told that Katherine was willing to speak to me from her bath.

“Oh, what is urgent NOW?”

“Not urgent, it’s just that our party of heroes has managed to get themselves arrested in Whitehill.”

“Whitehill? All right, if it’s a chance to see my children, then let’s be about it. AFTER I finish this divine bath.”

“I’ll go rent Dempsey again, then.”

Well, we had to pass through the food markets to restock. And, then, finally, we were able to get to the north gate, and along the muddy convention that served as a trail to Whitehill.

We had to use different campsites than I was used to, but there were no bandits. No, that had to wait until we were inside the city walls.

The cads! They didn’t even ask for our coins before they were upon us with clubs and ropes!

Yeah, there’s just not a lot of story there. We dragged the corpses and dying bodies back into their alleyway, and proceeded to the Moleas household.

“Well,” Katherine said, “this is goodbye.”

“Yes, I’ll see you after we’ve both slept.”

“No.” she said, “I mean this is goodbye. You’ve got yourself a group of heroes, a group of villains, and now a group of wilderness types. I’d just be in the way. Besides, I think you’d be happy my sword will be nowhere near you.”

I think I understand your reasons; you will be missed. “Live well, Katherine.”

“What? Not even going to ask for the gold back?”

“I know better than to attempt to take coinage from you, Katherine. Besides, if we fail, I need you to gather your sister and her family, and get to Furdia.”

She shrugged. “I guess that’s mine to mount. Be happier to not need it, though.”

#

The Knight Rampant was locked up tight until morning, but they courteously left a window to their stable’s loft open.

In the morning, I proceeded to the town’s civic center. The Whitehill jail couldn’t be far from –

“Guards! Guards, I need that creature arrested! He is a slave of my Guild, and I want him arrested now!”

The guards looked up from their porridge, at me, at Wren. They then turned their attention back to their porridge.

I walked up to Wren, while he kept hurtling invocative words at the guardsmen. “You stay back, creature!” He waved his finger at my nose.

Well, if he was going to make it EASY...

I put him into a finger lock, and guided him to the side of the road.

“Mister Wren. While I believe in second chances, I do not believed in thirds or more. I will thank you, Mister Wren, to remember who spared your life when another would taken it.”

“You aren’t a person, you’re property! We PAID for you!”

“Indentured servant. Do we need to open a court case?”

“Gladly.” He spat.

“Oh, okay.” I turned my head, and spat. “Let’s go.”

He tried twice to get guardsmen to bully me.

“What, you have bribed the guards?”

“Nope. As baffled as you are. But gift horse. Mouth. If I need to know, someone will tell me.”

The current case, where neighbors were arguing over how much three carrots were worth, was placed on hold the instant the judge saw us.

“Mister Wren Dromol. Why, sir, are you here, today?”

“I demand that this slave be remanded to the Guild at once!”

“This slave?” he said, pointing a finger at me.

“Yes, this very one right here!”

“Hold up!” said one of the farmers. “We need a decision on our case!”

“And you are right, sirs, to insist upon it. Bailiff, escort these men to the waiting room.”

“Ugh! Tin coins? I’ll gladly give the accuser three tin to drop his case and vacate the court!”

“Heh? That’s more’n I was asking for. I’ll accept that pay, your honor.”

The judge banged his gavel. “Decision reached. Out of court settlement. Record the case, let me know when we’re ready for Mister Dromol, here.”

Scribes are supposed to be professionals, but for speed the court clerks of Whitehill were the clear victors.

“Defendant, what is your name?”

“Rhishisikk, sir.”

“Spell it for the clerk, please.”

I did so.

“Where is the slave branded?”

“On his left thigh, your honor. It isn’t visible under the scales.”

“Bailiff, please check the defendant’s left thigh.”

Well, as anyone with scales can tell you, having them systematically lifted, poked, prodded, and such... not pleasant.

“Not a mark here, your honor.”

The judge rolled his eyes. “Lies, again, Mister Dromol? Why am I not surprised?”

“That’s impossible!” Wren screamed. “Ask it! This creature is property of the Guild!”

“Is that true?”

“No, your honor. My indentured servitude is to the Guild branch in Narrow Valley.”

“Is that a subsidiary branch of Whitehill?”

“It is.” Wren said.

“It is not.” I said, surprised I could say that. “As much as Whitehill desires that, their behavior as a separate, if superior, branch of the guild clearly indicates-”

“You. Whatever your name is, shut up. You speak when I ask you questions. Until then, bite the bit.”

.....

By asking later, I learned that the bit is that bar that goes into the horse’s mouth. It was Whitehill jargon for “shut up”.

“Mister Dromol, again, indentured servants are not slaves. It is not legal to treat them as slaves. You are fined two copper coins for wasting the court’s time.”

He struck his desk with his tiny hammer. “Decision reached. Defendant. Record the verdict.”

#

So I was actually feeling pretty good as I left the courthouse to find and free the errant adventurers. This is exactly when someone hit me in the back of my head with something I didn’t even feel as I fell insensate to the paving stones.

Needless to say, the front of the local courthouse isn’t the place to be doing such things, whether you can say your guild officer told you to capture a monster or not.

They dragged my unconscious body right inside, sprawled me out atop the accuser’s table, and because I declined to say otherwise, had my aggressor stripped naked and placed into the stocks until such time as I regained consciousness.

I am told that the stocks are no place to spend the night, and horrible things happened to him.

The next day, Daniel Leinster, head of the Guild of Guardsmen, Porters, Drovers, and Linkboys in Whitehill was called to court. He denounced Wren’s actions, calling them reprehensible. The Guild was fined for breaking the city peace, a public entry was made against Wren, and I was stored at an inn and checked daily to see if my assailant could be released.

[You do not have the biomass to pay your Maternal Biomass Loan. If you do not take immediate action, there will be severe consequences.]

Okay, well, I’ll just get out of bed...

[Severe injury: limited range of movement. Condition will be removed at 0 or greater health. Your health is currently -2/30.]

What? Everything I knew said I should be unconscious. So I needed to eat, and could barely move...

The mattress was full of straw! And had bugs for bonus protein!

I had just decided to cut the mattress open when a young boy came in. “Oh, you’re awake. Hi, I’m Timothy. Do you need anything?”

“Timothy, could I please get some food, or if not some bales of hay? And a cup of tea?”

“Sure thing, let me find my bigger sister, and we’ll get some food up here pronto!”

“I cannot feed you, father. I was ... concerned.”

“Yeah. Whatever that was, that hurt. Let’s not do that again.”

#

A quick check of the System revealed no statistical damage. Sanity and Serenity weren’t full, but were in the green.

Every mana pool seemed to be full. I should have been quivering with stored energy.

“Black Snake, how long has it been?”

“This is the third time the moon has risen since you were moved here.”

“How did you get out of the canteen? Are you alright?”

“With extreme difficulty and patience. I am doing better than you are, father.”

“Fair enough. Thank you for watching over me as I slept, daughter. Have you made any new friends?”

“Not friends. The crows want to eat your eyes.”

“When I’m dead, I’ll have no need for those eyes, and they are welcome to them.”

But speaking of food, that is when a cold bowl of stew with bits of grease arrived.

“Thank you, Timothy. For this bowl and the next.” I handed him two tin coins.

Each serving of stew was only ten nutrition, and the bowls were not full, with only three servings each.

[Emergency passed. You will now experience a period of unconsciousness.]

I wasn’t so far out of it that the sunlight failed to wake me. Some night I was going to dream about where the sun slept at night and wake it up. If only in a dream.

I paid for two breakfasts, and swallowed both down.

It had been what, three maybe four days? I needed to save Philecto and the others.

Turns out, they didn’t need saving. They were in a prison tower, yes, but one with feather beds and writing desks.

“Ah, our erstwhile employer!” said Philecto. A short and very bored looking woman with dark skin, and darker eyes said something in Arabic.

Okay... translator. “Philecto, where are the others? There are only six of you here.”

“Allow me the introductions, then. To my left, and going around are Dina the Scorpion, spear bearer to the late hero al’Mursa, also known as the Desert Viper. Next to her is Achmed the Mentalist; I rescued him from being burned as a necromancer. Next is Faraj el-Sufi, bowman, called the Chef for Vultures. Then his twin sister, Awda el-Sufi, also a bowman. And finally, that sulky woman is Rina el-Tahir.”

“And have they fought together, other than the twins?”

“Here and there along the road. And more ahead.”

“How well do they fight together, Philecto?”

He shrugged. “It’s a work in progress. We’ll be able to work together by the time we reach this hidden city of yours.”

I walked up to Awda. “You can translate?”

“Obviously.”

I told them everything I knew of Rakkal. They were fine until I ended with “These are things I have seen with my own eyes.”

Multiple party invites were sent. I had to decline them and invite them to my party. I told my System to share all information about Truthspeaker.

“You have until I can get you out of these cells to decide whether you wish to not be associated with this. If you are in, then you are in. But let me tell you about those who will be making sure we can get in, and more importantly, out.”

#